by Cathy Resmer
I can't believe I missed this one in my weekly perusal of the Vermont blogosphere.
Vermonter Caleb Daniloff at What I Saw Today on strangers in a small town:
You see them at the grocery store. People you once knew. The schoolprincipal you interviewed when you worked at the local paper. Aneighbor from your first apartment in town. The mother of yourdaughter’s best friend from third grade. The college professor youplayed raquetball with four years ago. You’ve had coffee with them, butno longer remember where or when. They look older, have grey hair, lostweight, put on weight. You look different, too, thicker around themiddle, rimless glasses. You’ve forgotten the names of their spouses,their kids. You can’t remember if she was the one who had a messydivorce or if he liked to smoke pot. All you know is you were once on afirst name basis and now you head down the closest aisle when you spotthem, pretending to be absorbed in your shoppping list. Little bylittle, by some unspoken agreement, you’ve agreed to unknow each other,to become strangers again.